A Name
by LuxaLucifer
Summary: Zevran and Alistair are bantering in camp, and Leliana is cheerfully listening when Alistair digs a little too deep into Zevran's past. Mentions of Alistair/F!Warden and past Zevran/F!Warden. Mentions of past rape. "Among friends, telling the truth can be a valid option."


My first Origins fic, and my first Dragon Age fic in a while. What else should I say? Oh, yeah, mentioned Alistair/F!Warden and past Zevran/F!Warden. Mentions of rape. EDIT: I upped the age because my headcanons have changed. So yeah.

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"Are you sure you do not wish to join me in my tent? I am sure you would not regret the experience."

"Ah,_ yes_, I'm sure. Sorry to disappoint you, but I'd rather get in my own soft bedroll and sleep the night away."

"And miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime? Why sit in your frigid tent when you could be nibbling at something even better than cheese?"

"I'm sure you're good at sex, Zevran, but you're not better than cheese."

Leliana couldn't help but smile as she listened to their banter. Alistair had been so distant to Zevran, who she'd taken an immediate liking to. Yes, he was quiet about his past, but who could blame him? They all had their own secrets.

But now, it seemed, Alistair was warming up to the assassin. In his own way.

"I know what it is," said Zevran, if possibly taking up an even more mischievous tone. "Don't think we don't know what's going on."

"What?" said Alistair, voice trembling.

"You and the Warden," said Zevran. "Believe it, all of us know. Especially me, sitting in my tent all alone, with nobody to warm me up..."

Alistair was blushing now, and Leliana wanted to laugh. She would have if she'd wanted them to know she was listening. But they didn't; to them, it looked like she was busily sharpening her blades.

"Fine," admitted Alistair. "She and I are together. We...it's...we're together."

"And how is it?" pressed Zevran.

"Good," said Alistair stiffly.

"Just good?" said Zevran. "She and I spend a night or two together, if you remember, and she was quite a passionate lover. The perfect one to spend a first time with, I would say."

Alistair snorted. "What would _you_ know about first times?"

"Was yours good?" said Zevran, ignoring the probe into his past. "If you want...I can show you some techniques to please her...just join me for a few hours..."

Alistair was looking at Zevran curiously now, and Leliana's stomach tightened. She didn't like where this was going. Oh, Alistair, you dumb, sweet boy.

"You had to have a first time, didn't you?" said Alistair, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. "Even you."

"Yes," said Zevran. "Even me."

"I think I have quite the advantage over you," said Alistair, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "You know all about my first time, but I know nothing about yours."

"Advantages are necessary for assassination," said Zevran. He laughed, but it sounded hollow to Leliana.

"Are you planning to assassinate me?" said Alistair jovially.

"No," said Zevran. "If I was planning to kill you, you'd already be dead."

Alistair laughed. "Fair enough."

Good. They were off the subject. Leliana let out a small sigh of relief.

"But really," said Alistair. "You know all about my first time. You probably even _heard_ some of it. I don't think it's fair that I don't know anything about yours."

Dammit.

"What is there to know?" said Zevran. "You have hardly joined the ranks of us woo-ers, how can you claim to understand the complexities of my sex life? That is, without participating in it."

"A name," pressed Alistair. "Just give me a name. You know the name of my first partner. That's all I ask."

They were too far for Leliana to clearly see Zevran's face, but the fire cast enough flames for her to see Zevran's jaw lock. When he spoke, it was with the same cheery tone as always, perhaps a little more chipper than usual.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you a name," he said.

"What?" said Alistair, surprised.

"I can't tell you a name," said Zevran. "Seeing as I don't know."

"You...don't know?"

"I was nine," said Zevran. "It is hard to remember names from when you were nine."

Leliana shut her eyes as she winced. Alistair couldn't take a hint. A very intelligent man in everything but this subject. Well, intelligent enough.

"You were nine?" said Alistair, his voice aghast. "But...how...can your body even..."

"The Antivan Crows take their training very seriously," said Zevran. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a block of cheese waiting for me in my bedroll."

He titled his head in a gesture of goodbye, turned on his heel, and left. Alistair stood there, mouth still open. Leliana felt sorry for him; he'd opened a can of worms he hadn't been prepared for.

She stood slowly, pretending to stretch her limbs before she sidled over to Alistair.

"So," she said. "I couldn't help but overhear some of your conversation."

Alistair sighed, looking gloomy. "Great. Because it can only get so much better."

"I'm not going to yell at you," said Leliana reluctantly. "Although I want to. That _was_ a pretty stupid thing you just did."

"How was I supposed to know?" protested Alistair. "He doesn't carry a sign that says 'hello, abused childhood, tread carefully'. Maybe he should. Maybe I should too."

"There were enough hints," said Leliana, rolling her eyes. "He switched subjects, he did that awful forced laugh. If you'd have been paying attention..."

"You're not Wynne," said Alistair sourly. "You don't need to mother me."

"I'm not trying to mother you! Horrible flirt and giant pain in the ass he may be, he's still my friend, and I care about him. You _know _he doesn't like talking about his past. Neither do you, so you should respect that."

"What should I do?" said Alistair.

"Figure it out," said Leliana, who was going to tell him to apologize until he'd compared her to Wynne, who was currently lecturing Oghren on his drunkenness.

Alistair sighed and turned towards Zevran's tent. Leliana let out a yelp of alarm. "Not now! Think it over. If you go now you'll just make a fool of yourself."

"Don't I always?" muttered Alistair.

"Believe it or not," she said. "You don't."

She walked past him into Zevran's tent, not even knocking as she entered it. Zevran was laying on the cot, fingers folded behind his head.

"Ah," he said cheerily. "I was wondering how long it would be."

"You knew I was listening then?" she said, wishing he would scoot over so she could sit with him on the cot. He didn't.

"Of course," he said. "It makes my fit earlier even more shameful. And to top it all off, I retreated to my tent. Now I am trapped here, unless I wish to make Alistair ridiculously uncomfortable."

"I am afraid it will happen either way," she replied. "He's coming in here after me."

He sighed. "Your doing, I suppose?"

"He'd never have the bravado otherwise."

"He doesn't need to apologize," said Zevran, sitting up. "I reacted badly to a common question, and told the truth. I should know better than to make that mistake."

She froze. How did one even respond to that? "Among friends, telling the truth can be a valid option."

"Are we friends?" said Zevran.

"Yes, we are," said Leliana, affronted. "Why else would I be in here?"

"Not you," said Zevran hastily. "Alistair and myself. He distrusts me even now, and now that I have let that slip he will treat me even more painfully, I think."

"Better, maybe," said Leliana.

"Yes, because he pities me," said Zevran savagely, the normally pleasant expression on his face dropping away in favor of narrowed eyes and a tightened mouth. "I do not want his pity."

"Nor do I," said Leliana. "And were I to tell of my past, he would surely have it."

Zevran leaned forward, dropping his hands into his lap. "Alas, I do not look forward to this awkward conversation in front of me. But maybe at the end he will feel bad enough to sleep with me? We will see."

Leliana smiled. "You're much more okay than I'd thought you'd be."

"I'm fine with my past," said Zevran quietly, though a smirk was evident on his face. "It is the _past_ for a reason. As long as he doesn't ask me any questions about it, I'm all right."

Leliana nodded, her own questions dying on her tongue. For another time, maybe. She nodded a goodnight to the elf and left, letting a nervous Alistair take her place.

"Good luck," she said. "He's extremely angry. He might have to spank you into forgiveness."

Alistair whimpered with apprehension, and she grinned. From inside the tent, she heard Zevran snicker.

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